Handcuffed

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

As Luke suggested, I was laying on the couch, trying to let the shaking pass. I've been staring at the same spot on the ceiling for nearly an hour now. What an exciting day it was turning out to be - and my only day home considering the events I was planning for tonight.

"What is that pill suppose to accomplish? Because it's not working!" I said loudly, irritated and hoping he would hear me from where he was cleaning up in the kitchen. His stupid pill wasn't working and I wouldn't have said anything if I wasn't hurting.

Yes, I was hurting. My sides ached as did my head. I felt ready to throw up as well like I felt like doing last night. Except - also like last night - I didn't throw up. It was a terrible feeling. The one within the pit of your stomach that said something needs to come up but nothing would. I wanted to blame it on those stupid eggs.

I was convinced now that he had no clue on what he was doing because the pill wasn't working. And I'm sure he never was high before so he didn't understand my pain. Who I needed was Mark. He could help. Question was: would he even bother with me if I could get to him? I wasn't sure. Hell, I wasn't even sure if I would be able to get to him with Luke here all day, watching me. I was sure he knew what I was up to. I assumed that was his main reason for staying home with me. Because he knew I would try to get some weed somehow if nobody could stop me. He knew he could stop me though.

"That pill will help with the shaking. The reason it's not working is because I just gave it to you five minutes ago. Give it some time," he said, his voice coming closer with each word and I knew he was now in the living room. I heard him sit down in the chair close by where I was laying. Glancing to my side, finding him there, our eyes met and he looked somewhat frustrated at my impatient remark.

Time had flew by in the past year. Why couldn't it just fly by right now because I wanted that pill to start taking effect?Just until I somehow get to Mark, I didn't want to continue to go through the pain that was already going through me. Until then, I would actually need a plan to get to him.

After a moment of silence, I spoke, curious as to how smart this guy was in terms of knowing my motives. I just prayed that the knowing look he gave me a few minutes ago while we were eating - while he was eating and I was putting my mouth through torture - was just something I imagined. Because if it wasn't, that meant he knew what I was up to.

"After I feel better later on, do you think we can go to the mall?" I asked, trying my best to sound like a normal teenage girl that likes to go shopping. But in saying that, I realized it might not have been the smartest thing considering he already knew me for a few hours. I knew that in that time, it could mean I was too late to convince him that I was normal. He had a good idea I was anything but normal.

I was right by the very suspicious expression he offered, eyebrows raising with calculating eyes. "Why?"

Trying to sound somewhat of myself now to convince him a little more smoothly hopefully, I said, "Have you seen my bedroom? No, you haven't, because I don't have one. I have the guest bedroom - AKA my old room. I have nothing. And you know why?" I asked, smirking as we both knew the answer.

He scowled. "Your mother got rid of your things because she was scared, like she said last night. She wanted to start new and was scared that if I knew of you, I would leave her. You heard her."

I scoffed myself. "You think that's a good excuse?" I asked and I also knew his thoughts on that. He was trying to defend her because he wanted his relationship with his wife to last. He didn't want to give up. Yet, in his eyes, I could see Clare hurt him - so much so that I didn't think the damage could be repaired no matter how much he acted as if it was. Not to mention, the fact that he hasn't spoken to her since last night was enough credit towards it.